


Nothing I'm Not Good At

by cathedralvelvet



Category: Dragalia Lost
Genre: Doggy Style, F/M, Reader has Euden's role but isn't identified save for having a dick, Reader-Insert, Spanking, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 06:09:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16153205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathedralvelvet/pseuds/cathedralvelvet
Summary: When Ezelith's rash behavior leads to near-disaster for your band of fugitives and outcasts, you're about to kick her off the team when you get an idea that might get results, but will definitely let you work out your frustrations with the fiery, egotistical redhead.





	Nothing I'm Not Good At

The campfire blazes on, long after Elisanne and Cleo have retired to their own tents for the night. Normally, the fire would have died down by now, this many hours into the night, but in this case, you and the others hadn’t exactly had to search far for kindling. It hadn’t even taken more than a fraction of the wreckage of the supply wagon to build the fire in the first place. You resist the urge to look over at the rest of the remains, at the mangled tarp and splintered wood, much of it stained or otherwise fouled with the supplies you couldn’t salvage after the battle was over. You know it will only get your ire up. You do your best to keep your eyes on the shirt whose front — defaced with a ragged, ugly tear across the chest — you’re trying to mend.

You hear movement on the other side of the campfire, and, despite your better judgment, you do look up. Sitting there with her knees drawn up to her chin, fidgeting with discomfort, is the cause of the night’s problems. When you look up, she’s looking down, and you bite back a sigh, holding your tongue and returning to your work.

Ezelith is usually livelier than this, and so you try to keep your anger down, knowing that it’s probably guilt that has her still out here so late at night, unable to look you in the eye. With hair as bright and expressions as animated as the flame still flickering between you, she’s always stood — but never still — in high contrast with your own slower, more cautious approach, especially since what happened in the Mistholt. Still, even assuming that she already feels bad about what happened, you still wish she would go to her tent and out of sight.

“Why don’t you just let me fix that for you,” you hear suddenly, and look up, jarred out of your ruminations on Ezelith by the woman herself. Her eyes, previously downcast, are now locked firmly in your direction. Her face is still partially hidden by her arms, wrapped as firmly as they are around her knees, but her eyes still meet yours.

“Are you offering?” you say after a moment’s silence. You lower the needle and thread, resting them on the shirt spread over your crossed legs.

Ezelith tosses her head back, her eyes closing for a moment and the old, smug smile crossing her face again. “You should be grateful,” she says, her voice haughty as ever, “not many get a chance to see my superb stitchwork.”

You stare at her for a moment. “Grateful,” you finally say, tonelessly.

When she looks at you again, blinking her eyes at, if not your hostility, your seeming disinterest in playing along, she sags slightly, her head sinking until her chin rests on her knee. “Um,” she finally says. “C-could I?”

This would be easier if she didn’t look so downtrodden, if it wasn’t so obvious that she does feel some level of guilt for what played out earlier. “I think we need to talk about whether you really…fit here, Ezelith,” you finally say, finding it hard to get the words out.

The look she gives you is a little heartbreaking — confusion, then shock mingling with hurt in her eyes as she rears back slightly. “Wait, w-what?”

You steel yourself, setting your ruined shirt — you really ought to just throw it in the fire; going barechested won’t kill you, though it’ll be a little embarrassing when you finally make it back to the Halidom — on the ground beside you. “We lost a wagon full of supplies, Ezelith,” you say. Being angry helps you get the words out. “We lost the actual wagon, and I barely cut the horses free in time before that monster took them along with it. So we lost them too.”

“Th, that, that wasn’t my fault!” Ezelith, the stammer uncharacteristic of her. “If we’d just taken it unawares, like I said —”

“You blasted a water drake with fire magic, Ezelith!” you say, barely restraining yourself from shouting. “The rest of us had to scramble to try to get to you in time before it killed you!”

Ezelith, her face pale, barely gets out, “I, I didn’t ask you all to —”

“But I did ask you to stay with us! I didn’t even want you with us on the trip in the first place, but you bulldozed over me and everyone else, just like you always do! We were terrified when you ran up ahead like that, and so we had to rush in too, completely unprepared. Everything went to hell, because of you! We had to retreat because of you, and that damn drake followed us out here because of you!” You breathe heavily for several moments.

Ezelith’s brief flare of defensiveness guttered out visibly over the course of your tirade, and now she stares at you, guilt and sheer horror at your words mounting. “I, I, I’m — I didn’t think, I —”

“You never fucking think!” you erupt, and immediately you bring your fist to your mouth and bite down on a knuckle for a moment, trying to calm yourself. You breathe out slowly. “You don’t think about how other people feel, you don’t think about how maybe, perhaps, someone else might be better suited to a task than you are. When I tell you something — your boss, Ezelith! When I tell you something, you don’t think about it, it just slides along the side of your head like water off a duck’s back.”

Shaking her head, looking near the point of tears, Ezelith opens her mouth, but no words come out. You realize — and this shouldn’t surprise you, but it does — that, in all likelihood, no one has ever spoken to Ezelith like this. It’s completely plain to see that she has no way of responding.

“I asked you to guard the wagon,” you say, calmer. “Ezelith, the rest of us together, without you in the mix, stood a better chance than if you were there.” You try not to flinch at the look of hurt in her eyes. “That was the situation. We had a plan. Everything would have been fine if you had just waited. You’re — you really are a good fighter, a good mage, but not everyone is equipped for every situation. That’s what having so many people backing me up is about.” You shake your head, trying to summon up the resolve to say what needs to be said.

Breathing heavily, Ezelith brings her hands up to her mouth as she seems to realize that you’re about to come back around to your original topic. “Please — don’t, I didn’t mean for —”

“You didn’t mean for our wagon and supplies to end up trash,” you finish for her. “You didn’t mean for the fight to go to hell. You didn’t mean for me to get gored.” You bring a hand, unthinkingly, to the place on your chest where your wounds were healed. “You know, Elisanne was a wreck, afterward? I was too out of it from being healed from something that bad to say anything to reassure her, but it was obvious she blamed herself. Paladyns, you know?” You take a ragged breath. “Cleo barely spoke to me at all once she was done healing me. I honestly don’t think she can handle the idea of losing a…” you struggle with the word. “A master, again.”

“I’m sorry,” Ezelith says; she’s had tears in her eyes since you brought up the others. “I, I’m sorry, I, really…”

“We’re a team,” you say, your own throat hurting. “It really, really doesn’t matter if you’re the best, if you can’t…function, as part of that, Ezelith.” You take a deep breath. “You really are good at…at some things. It’s not like you’re hurting for other prospects, Ezelith.”

She shakes her head, rubbing her eyes dry, for the moment. “I, I don’t want other prospects, I want —” She falls silent for a moment. “I want to be part of this. I — I like being here, with — with you all.”

You run a hand through your hair, frustrated. “You don’t talk like it. You don’t act like it. You act like we’re an audience for you, Ezelith.”

The mage takes a shuddering breath. “Please, just — just give me a second chance. I’ll do anything,” she says.

“Anything?” you repeat. “A tall offer from the woman who’s good at everything — or isn’t that right?” You realize, suddenly, that you’re being crueler than is really necessary. Then, on the heels of that thought, you shock yourself with another thought, an even crueler one, something vile that you never would have expected of yourself. And on a normal day, it wouldn’t ever have occurred to you, but tonight, after one of the worst days you’ve had since the Mistholt, it falls into your mind, already whole. “Anything,” you repeat again, looking at Ezelith in a different light.

She looks at you, confusion returning to her expression at your sudden change in tone. A bit of her usual overblown confidence returns to her voice as she says, “The best at everything I’ve tried. And if I’ve never done it before, well, I’ll become the best.”

You slowly get to your feet, growing hard in anticipation of what — might — be coming. This could blow up in your face. But right now, after almost dying, you feel like your veins have turned to live wires. “I’ll keep you on,” you say, wanting to set that in stone from the beginning. The last thing you want is to feel bad about this later. “You don’t have to do anything. But do you really want me to forgive you for what happened today/ Ezelith? For the way you’ve talked to and about everyone else here? Hell, about me?”

Hope starts to dawn in Ezelith’s eyes. She wiped frantically at her eyes. “I — yes. I, I really do!”

You stop after walking half of the distance between the two of you, the fire beside you. You reach for your zipper, and, locking eyes with her, you do something you can’t undo: slowly, you undo your zipper, then pull your underwear down and out of the way.

To say she looks surprised is an understatement. Her jaw actually drops, and for a moment you think she’s about to scream out in outrage or horror, waking up the other two women in camp. In that possible timeline, you know without even having to think about it that you’ll end up dying a second time tonight, as the three of them extract bloody vengeance for — you hear this in Elisanne’s voice — “behavior ill-befitting a royal.” Then you realize, as you look at her eyes, that they are still firmly locked on you.

Freed of the confines of your clothing, your cock is shockingly erect, and in the firelight you know that nothing at all is hidden. “A-are, are you serious?” she says, her mouth twitching oddly as she continues to stare at you — or, more specifically, at your shaft.

“It’s up to you, Ezelith,” you say, trying not to bite your lip show your nervousness otherwise. This was a bizarre, split-second decision, and you’re still not sure exactly what brought you to even think of something this outrageous, but beside the fire, with a gorgeous mage staring at your member, you feel strangely confident. Maybe almost dying knocked a screw loose.

Ezelith blinks, tearing her eyes up and away to look at your face. “This,” she says hesitantly, glancing back down at your cock in a way that gives you rush of sudden, ridiculous pride, “this isn’t some kind of joke? The others aren’t standing behind your tent flap, waiting to, to, I don’t know —”

You laugh despite yourself. “God, don’t even joke about that.” You smirk, the expression coming out of nowhere but feeling good in the moment.

Her breath hitches as she looks down at you. Then, shocking you despite how much you were hoping for it, she starts to move. Rolling forward on the balls of her feet, the mage moves to her hands and knees, her fiery hair hanging to the ground. Looking down at her, with the firelight dancing on her skin and her eyes not quite meeting yours, given how solidly they seem fixed on what’s between your legs, you can look down directly into her cleavage, and, impossibly, you get even more excited.

The desire in you mounts as her hands find their way to your knees — bracing herself on you for support — then your thighs. And you’re looking down at her past your cock, and you cross your arms, and just keep smiling. You don’t want to push her, not when this is as sketchy as it already is, but it’s hard to resist the urge to goad her forward in some way.

“Uh,” she says, as if about to say something, and then closes her mouth again. You look her in some confusion, but before you say anything, she leans forward and, obviously hesitant, but with a challenge in her eyes, she presses her mouth to your cock.

Your mind seems to skip a beat when the point of contact is made between the two of you, and something…changes. Like a Dragonpact being made, or — but before you can think at all about the strange sensation that passed through you, you hiss through your teeth as Ezelith’s mouth opens against the head of your shaft, then moves forward, her tongue pressing lightly against your tip as her lips wrap around the head. You stifle a moan as, looking up at you, Ezelith reaches up and — gingerly, with none of the practiced confidence you see when she prepares spells in the middle of a fight — wraps her fingers around your base.

She squeezes, not like she’s trying to grip you hard, but like she’s trying to get a feel for you. Either way, you feel it, and you have to resist the urge to grab her hand with you own and show her exactly how you want this done. But this is her show, so you barely manage to hold yourself together.

With a quiet moan you barely hear over the crackle of the flames, Ezelith presses forward, her lips sliding slowly forward as she works out on the fly how to accomodate your size. You recognize, looking down at her, the abstract look that sometimes comes over her eyes when she’s trying to look at a problem from the right angle before going in guns blazing. You’re reminded of what you said in a rush of anger, earlier — ‘You never think’ — and know, with a rush of sudden affection, that that isn’t really true.

Introspection, even if it’s about the woman in question, becomes much harder when her tongue begins to glide down the underside of your cock even as she slides forward. She looks up at you, briefly, and you realize with a flush that creeps all the way down your neck that you let out a breathy little cry without really noticing, or being able to stop it. You smile down at her, and even with the way her face is understandably flushed with the difficulty of breathing and the exposed, heady intimacy of blowing someone by the roaring fire, you can see her cheeks redden further.

Then, after taking another inch, she starts to move back. And that’s all the warning you get before Ezelith, breathing in sharply through her nostrils, begins to throw herself entirely into the task of fellating you. Her head bobs forward and back as the blowjob, its slow and exploratory period finished, commences in earnest. You notice, this time, when you let out a strangled moan, unable to control your vocal cords or the way this is playing with your mind. You’re the one who instigated this, but now the controls are well and truly out of your hands, as Ezelith sets her own pace in sucking your shaft like a professional.

With the one hand still remaining at the base of your cock, its only motion that of a thumb steadily rubbing your cock’s side, Ezelith brings the other up and begins to massage your balls. It shocks you — nearly brings you down to your knees, in fact. For several long, strung-together moments, it’s all you can do to hold yourself in one piece and on your feet.

Another handful of seconds pass with you passive, at the scaldingly hot mercy of a self-proclaimed genius, before you finally act. You bring your hands down and rest them on either side of Ezelith’s head. She lets out a startled moan, and only the steady rhythm she’s been establishing over the last few minutes keep her from going still out of shock at the sudden contact. Smirking, you sink your hands into her fire-colored hair, your fingertips rubbing along her scalp as your hands ride her head as it continues to bob back and forth.

When she rears her head back for yet another push forward, you take another step: You grip her head more tightly, and you pull her forward with real force. Instead of gliding forward on your now thoroughly saliva-lubricated cock at her own pace, Ezelith lets out a sound halfway between a moan and a scream around your shaft as you yank her forward and force her to take more of you, faster, than she was really mentally prepared for. She looks up at you through eyes suddenly wet with unshed tears, and for a moment you’re ready to stop — but instead of fear, you see a kind of anger that you’re well used to at this point. It’s the kind of look she gets when confronted with the unfamiliar reality of someone else being better than her, a mixture of fury and competitiveness that, in the wrong situation, can lead to disaster.

With the remains of the supply wagon in flames beside you, making the two of you sweat harder than you already would be with this kind of hot exertion, you don’t really need any kind of reminder of exactly what kind of disaster Ezelith can cause when her ire is up. But here, now, as you push her back along her cock until only the head is still between her lips, you know that sometimes that unreasoning rage can be a good thing. Before you can pull her forward again, she positively slams into action. Her hands move away from your cock, instead reaching around to grasp your buttocks with all the strength she usually uses with those daggers of hers. Then, using you as leverage, she breaks free of your grip — it having been on the back of her head anyway — and rushes forward like a battering ram, taking all of your cock that she can into her mouth. Before you can move your hands into place again, she rears back once more.

Then she’s moving at a pace you wouldn’t have thought was possible or reasonable, not with the way you can feel your cock hitting real resistance with the end of each push forward. You’re hitting Ezelith’s throat, you realize, just before she lets out a cry around your shaft and, with one last serious push, she slams forward —

You let out a gasp as you feel her taking your cock head into her throat. She looks up at you again, her eyes now awash with tears running down her face, but you can’t feel worried at that, not with the competitive glee shining from behind the tears. ‘I win,’ she almost seems to be saying, and it’s so completely her that, without meaning to, you bring a hand to her cheek and, with tenderness that surprises you, you stroke her face.

Your own surprise is nothing to the shock, or the hot scarlet flush, that take over her face at the obvious affection held behind the gesture. You hear a sound almost like a squeak — but then she’s off like a shot again, her face going hard with determination.

A part of you wants to slam forward with your cock, to get your hands on her neck and just fuck her face, and the urge to dominate her catches you off guard, but not so much that you carry forward with it. You realize, looking down at her and trying not to moan at the stimulation or the tightness of her throat, that this has become of real importance to her. She wants to win in truth, to prove herself the best at something new, yet again. You try and imagine Ezelith bragging about yet another skill she’s mastered, then realize that there’s no chance in hell that she’d ever speak of something like this to any of the others. And with that comes another realization, as she continues to blow you with more passion than you’ve ever seen from her: This win, this victory, it’s just between the two of you.

You aren’t sure why it matters, save that you know it will absolutely matter to her. That maybe it already does. And then all rational thought is scoured from your mind for several seconds as she changes the script. Her face now red with exertion and breathlessness — how long has this been going on?! — Ezelith begins to restrict her movements such that, with her mouth only ever venturing a few inches away from the base of your cock, all she’s doing is deepthroating you. And she’s doing it with abandon. When you can see her eyes at all, tears are flowing unchecked and they seem utterly unfocused, so determined she is to reach even greater heights.

The end is close, you can feel, and you’re torn between just letting go now and making this a real trial for her. Eventually, unable to think about it any longer — you’re closer than you can bear — you just grab her head again. Her startled squeal not helping matters any — you’re on borrowed time now, really — you really do start to facefuck her, thrusting forward and back with your cock without thinking about how she’s feeling. You just use her like a toy, seconds passing like eions as you work to give this devil’s bargain the sendoff it deserves. The one Ezelith deserves.

At the last second, you pull out in one go, and in the same instant that Ezelith takes in a ragged, shocked, sputtering breath, saliva and precum surrounding her mouth and drool hanging from her lips and chin, you finally let go. Your first spurt, like a sledgehammer to your consciousness, takes her across the face, nearly hitting her in the eye and then streaking down across her nose to the other side of her mouth. Then another spurt, and another, each shot helping to further sully her face. One, as she breathes raggedly and helplessly despite what is happening, catches her full in the mouth. Your orgasm seems to last an eternity, but you know only a short stretch of seconds passes. When you’ve blown the entirety of your load, you feel barely able to stand, and actually find your hands on Ezelith’s shoulders, not quite supporting yourself on them, but definitely using them.

The mage sputters and coughs, once having to swallow, shock still raw on her face. Mingled with it, though, is something you can’t quite identify with any certainty. Arousal, certainly, but there’s something deeper, something that shocks you even without you quite being able to understand it. It reminds you a little of the way Zethia and Notte first looked at you after forming your first Dragonpact, a kind of rapt attention. Or admiration, maybe.

Somehow, you end up on your knees beside Ezelith, practically leaning against her from your sheer helplessness in the wake of such a powerful orgasm. You don’t feel exhausted, shockingly, but you still need a moment, and you spend it watching Ezelith breathe. She looks at you in turn, and you feel some real worry on realizing that her breathing still hasn’t returned to normal. She’s practically panting.

Then she says, her eyes still bright with tears and exertion, “If you still haven’t forgiven me yet, I-I’ll still do…anything. M-more.” The last word is both an offer and a plea, and then, before you can react, she unbuttons the tight, ass-hugging booty shorts, and begins to push them down. Roll them down, really, as tight as they are.

When she’s pushed them down and out of the way, you realize that Ezelith is soaked and hot with arousal. Her pussy lips are flushed and puffy with need, and you can see that her panties and shorts both are damp with her need. You gape down at her, growing hard again despite what just happened.

Ezelith looks at you with an indescribable gaze, then turns and bends all at once, until she’s on her knees and arms, her ass upraised and her shorts and panties pushed all the way down to her knees. “I-If you don’t want to, though,” she starts, and then you’re moving, your cock stiff at attention as you get behind her.

She lets out a breathy gasp as the underside of your cock slides against her taint and her ass, only just barely grazing her pussy. “If you really want me to forgive you, you’ll clean your face up first,” you say, surprising yourself with the roughness in your voice. “With your hands. And you have to swallow it all.”

“W-what?” the mage sputters out. “You’re the one who — you pulled out, you jerk!”

“Or else I won’t do another damn thing,” you say, and as if to highlight your meaning, you grind your cock lower, letting its underside run flush with Ezelith’s needy cunt. There’s something supremely gratifying about the way Ezelith lets out a shivering, mewling whine, her fiery defiance settling in an instant. She spreads her thighs wider in one involuntary movement, her knees inching apart in the dirt.

After a moment’s silence, save for the mage’s unsteady breathing in the wake of your ultimatum, you see her lower herself to one arm, the other hand moving to her face. You hear a sigh, and then her fingers move to her mouth. After a few moments’ licking and audible swallowing, she lowers her hand to the ground again, then looks at you over her shoulder.

Ezelith’s face can’t exactly be called clean — there are still some obvious spots where your cum can be seen — but you know that she tried to do your bidding, that, at the very least, she swallowed most of the cum you deposited on her face. For a moment, you feel almost unbearably hard. “D-did I do well?” Ezelith asks after a moment of uneasy waiting, her face flushed.

“So uncertain,” you say cockily, bringing a hand down to ‘test the waters’ so to speak, briefly cupping Ezelith’s mound and finding that she’s still quite wet, and as hot with arousal as she looks in the light of the fire still blazing nearby. “I thought you were good at everything?” you add, smiling as you run a few knuckles along the length of her cunt, being careful to brush her clit before pulling the hand away.

“A-ah!” Ezelith bites her lip, looking down again as her thighs tense visibly. “D-don’t tease me! A-and…of course I am,” she adds a moment later, sounding almost shocked at herself for implying otherwise. “I’m just not feeling myself tonight,” she says defensively.”

You’re barely listening to her last words as you shift positions slightly, trying to make sure your position is right…but even that much thought feels beyond you right now, with how hot and amped up you are with what’s been happening, and what’s about to happen. “Y-you’re sure about this?” you barely manage to get out. The idea of stopping now is beyond agonizing ,but you want to give Ezelith a chance to back out, even if this in particular had been her idea. Her offer.

She lets out an unsteady gasp, and for a moment you wonder if she really is going to say no — but then her ass wriggles in front of you. “I-I said I would do anything,” she says after a moment’s silent disbelief. From her tone of voice, she sounds almost appalled that you were even considering stopping. Then there’s another silence, as if she realizes just how far she just tipped her hand. “I-I mean, I was serious, about you forgiving m — eek —!”

All her defensive rambling cuts off to nothing but a squeak of raw shock and physical sensation as you line up your cock, place both of your hands on the front of her hips, and, after taking one last steady breath, push steadily forward. The feeling of her heat around just the head of your cock is almost unbearable, but a second later, that becomes obsolete as you push further into her and feel her embracing more of you. And then that, in turn, is nothing to the feeling of half your cock being embraced by Ezelith’s cunt.

After her initial squeal of surprise, Ezelith’s head was bowed, not a sound coming out of her as you began to push into her. Now, though, as your shaft begins to claim her pussy in earnest, she lets out a muffled groan, as though her mouth is barely open, or she’s biting one lip. Her hand and arm shift slightly on the ground as you sink deeper, most of your cock now tightly gripped by the muscles of her sex. “Ohh, o-ohh, oh, ohhhhh my god,” she gets out, her thighs spreading out as her knees shuffle outward on the ground.

The move brings her ass a little lower, and the slight change in the position makes things a little easier for you as you make one last, rough push. When you hilt yourself inside Ezelith, your hands tense on her thighs. “Y-you’re, you’re tight,” you say, struggling for a moment to get your bearings.

Before you can ask if she’s okay, Ezelith lets out a breathy, shuddering laugh. “Y-you feel, you feel…like a lot,” she says, a little lamely. She laughs again. “A-are you just going to — do you not know what to do next?” she says, and to your shock, there’s a hint of slyness in her voice, some of her usual cocky know-it-all, I’m-better-than-you attitude slipping out at what feels to you like an unlikely time. “I mean, if you need some pointers…” She wiggles her ass for a moment, as much as is possible with you buried inside her. It seems like more of a tease than anything.

You let out a laugh despite how wrapped up you are in all this. “I thought you were trying to get me to forgive you for the attitude,” you say, and then, without warning, you pull back, rearing up for a thrust that follows barely a second later.

Ezelith lets out a shocked cry that is nearly a scream with that first real thrust, and she bows her head again. “That’ll…teach me…to open my mouth,” she says, something raw behind her voice, making it tremble.

“That’s the idea!” you say cheerfully, and then you’re fucking her. With your hands on her hips as leverage, it’s easy to set up the right kind of pace that you’re going for — something breakneck, rough, nearly brutal. No more exploratory motions, no more stopping to make sure Ezelith is okay. Now that you know she wants this, that taking it slow will just earn more mouthy ridicule, doing what feels natural is easy. And what feels natural tonight, with this girl, after what’s happened today, is to fuck her like you’re both in heat.

She lets out a whimpering, staccato hum — “Hmm! Mm! Hm! Nnh!” — with your every thrust, and soon Ezelith is throwing her ass back to meet you, her ample rear — usually tightly enclosed in those scarlet booty shorts she scampers everywhere in — jiggling in a way that just gets you even hotter.

The sight of her like that, the sound of her ass slapping against your lap with your every thrust, gives you an idea. Running with your ideas has gone well tonight, so without really thinking, you lift a hand from one of her hips, sacrificing a bit of leverage, only to bring it down an instant later in an open-palmed slap.

Ezelith’s shocked cry is satisfying, and she looks over her shoulders at you, indignant. “Wh-what, what the hell?” The look in her eyes is hampered somewhat by the way she bites her lower lip a moment later as you continue to thrust into her with all the force you’ve been displaying up until now.

You bring your hand down, spanking her again. You don’t do it with undue force — you aren’t trying to genuinely hurt her. But you know it will sting, as will what you’re about to ask of her. “Tell me you’re sorry,” you say.

“Nnh, I, I already did!” Ezelith says, her voice desperate with arousal as she continues to meet your thrusts. “What — AH!”

With a third slap, you start to speed up, sacrificing just a bit of power for quicker stimulation. You want to overwhelm her. “Tell me again, Ezelith,” you say.

Before you can rear your hand up for another slap, she cries out, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry for what I did!” There’s an edge of panic to her voice, but at the same time, she too speeds up her movements, trying her best to meet you halfway.

You bring your hand down again, the other hand gripping her thigh almost painfully tightly, you know. “Tell me it won’t happen again.”

“Oh g-god, I, I can’t — ! With you like thi — AHN!” She lets out something halfway between a scream and a moan, and you know she’s losing it between the twin pressures of your cock and your hand. “It won’t, it won’t, I promise, p-please — don’t stop, I’m so close!”

You’re getting close yourself, and so you decide you need to bring this to a close. You bring your hand down a little harder, even as your thrusts become faster. It’s a speed that you know you can’t sustain for long, not with the way her cunt and her voice are dragging you to the edge, but the strange, confident certainty that made you try to start this scenario in the first place tells you that you won’t have to keep it up for long. “Who do you work for, Ezelith?” you shout, spanking her one last time for good measure.

This time, she doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t seem to have to think at all, as she slams her body back at you again and again like a battering ram. “You! I work for you, for you, just y-you!” You can feel her trembling with what’s coming, and then she screams, “I’m yours! Ah — h-ha-AH—”

That feeling from before — that feeling like a pact, like a dragon’s power settling into you with the weight of a promise — blooms inside you with Ezelith’s sudden, unexpected, unasked-for declaration. In almost the same moment, you feel her clench impossibly hard around you. You distantly hear her moan, “Y-yours,” as she climaxes, and it’s barely another moment before you reach your limit as well. It isn’t as intense as before — you came all over her face not long ago, and you hardly have that much cum to spare — but it’s still enough to undo you as you slump forward, bringing both of you to the ground as your arms come down to either side of her.

You can barely do anything more than breathe for a while, and you know she’s in the same position. You’re still mostly hard, mostly inside her, and it occurs to you that you should probably pull out, but the effort involved in the idea feels like too much for you to deal with. You let out a shocked breath when you feel a hand — smaller than yours, and a little grimy with what you realize is your cum and her saliva — move over a little and interlace its fingers with yours.

It’s a strangely tender moment, and makes you remember her last words before breaking down beneath you. Yours? As you look down at her face, you see that, for all her exhaustion, she looks a little giddy.

The two of you should probably talk, but in the moment, all you can do is breathe.

— Until you hear her murmur, looking at you with something akin to adoration, “Do you want to go again?”

* * * * *

Only a few yards away, inside one of the tents, a pair of Sylvan ears twitch atop a head of violet hair, just barely out of view of the firelight. Cleo takes in a long, full breath, then exhales a little raggedly. When she peeks out through the crack in her tent’s flaps again, she sees Ezelith, having rolled herself on top, holding Cleo’s master’s cock upright in one hand. The other is braced on his stomach, and Cleo holds her breath, biting her tongue as the other woman sinks down, inch by inch.

When Ezelith begins to bounce up and down, moving in earnest, Cleo has to turn away, throwing herself down onto her bedroll and burying her face in a pillow. Unable to stop herself, she begins to rub at herself through her nightdress, and the pillow helps to mask her moan. Even now, she can hear the slap of flesh against flesh.

She knew that this would happen, knew that it was a matter of time before her master began to act in accordance with his nature. And she knows that once she’s explained everything to him — explained exactly what else he has in common with his ancestor — this won’t hurt so much. That it might not hurt at all, in fact. But in the moment, as her master’s first conquest rides him with utter abandon, Cleo feels herself torn between bitter jealousy and blazing desire.

The lewd, shameless sounds continue to invade her tent from outside, and as her master and Ezelith throw themselves together, unaware of exactly what is driving them together with such intensity, Cleo’s hand begins to work faster.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me over at [my tumblr](https://cathedralvelvet.tumblr.com), where I post about what I'm working on and will do things like character polls if I get enough interest.


End file.
